


only to find I've come alive

by sleeplessmiles



Series: fast blood [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post-2x20]</p><p>Jemma experiences the effects of the Terrigen crystals firsthand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only to find I've come alive

**Author's Note:**

> GAH. 
> 
> So I was struck with this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone, so naturally I had to get it out. This has been written very quickly, and so any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Also, please note the warnings in the tags.
> 
> Hope you... enjoy?? UGH I'm so sorry.

 

 

In the end, no one sees it coming.

But they should have.

(After all, they never did see Gonzales’ body.)

 

 

-

-

 

 

Jemma is the head of SHIELD’s science division. Jemma is the one who was sent to directly conduct the Indexing. Jemma created the gloves for Skye.

It has to be Jemma.

Skye can follow her mother’s logic, of course she can, only that she can also recognise that is _legitimately nuts_.

‘Mom, you can’t do this!’ she repeats, trying to ignore the pang of hurt in her stomach at Jiaying’s continued non-reaction. ‘She hasn’t _done_ anything!’

‘She’s done plenty,’ Jiaying replies simply, not taking her eyes off Jemma. Skye can’t even bring herself to look across anymore; every time she does, she wants to be sick at the terrified resignation etched into her friend’s face.

‘This is wrong.’

‘This is _war_ ,’ Lincoln reasons from behind her, and _wow_ is that the wrong argument to be making to her right now. 

‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ she yells. ‘Why are we treating this like some ancient – ’

‘ – They threw the first punch,’ he cuts in, voice low but more serious and urgent than she’s ever heard it. ‘We have to show them we’re capable of fighting back. We have to send them a warning.’ 

‘By murdering my best friend?’

‘Skye – ’

‘No! Save it,’ she growls at Jiaying. ‘You can stop this! You can – you can be better than them.’

‘There is no moral high ground, Skye!’ Jiaying seethes, turning to face her. ‘I know you want there to be, but there just isn’t. They will _slaughter_ our people. We need to do what we can to ensure that that doesn’t happen.’ 

Skye gapes. ‘So we execute innocents?’

But Jiaying only rotates to look at Jemma once more, effectively dismissing Skye.

‘Nobody is innocent.’

‘What – ’

‘It’s alright, Skye,’ Jemma’s small voice interjects. Skye spins to look at her, and it feels like her heart might actually be shattering at the frightened expression on her friend’s face. Her lips are downturned and her eyes are filled with tears that stubbornly refuse to fall, but her voice is a steely promise.

‘Don’t worry about me. If this is what has to…’ she swallows, mustering a tremulous smile for Skye’s sake. _Oh, God._ ‘Just be safe.’

The scientist glances quickly to the nearby desk then, upon which rests her recently removed communication device. The one broadcasting this whole mess live to Coulson and whatever is left of the SHIELD Council.

And Fitz.

Fitz is listening.

Skye can’t hold back her sob. 

‘Be safe,’ Jemma repeats, eyes on the device and voice wavering a little, and Skye knows the order isn’t for her. Not this one. 

 _Please, no._  

She starts rapidly shaking her head, nonsense spilling from her lips.

‘No, no please Mom. Please. She’s my friend, she doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t want to hurt you. _Please_ , don’t do this. Please. She’s just – ’ 

‘Lincoln, remove her.’

‘No – get off of me!’ Skye yells, fighting against Lincoln’s grip on her arms. Jiaying walks to the other side of the desk, reaching for something wrapped in cloth, and oh God it’s going to be a gun, they’re going to shoot her and she _doesn’t deserve this_. 

As Jiaying rounds the desk, Jemma shrugs off the man holding onto her bicep and straightens her shoulders a little. Raising her chin, she meets Jiaying’s eyes head on.

(Brave to the very last.)

Skye is still yelling incoherently when her mother takes the cloth off the object in her hand and –

It’s a… crystal?

 _Oh, God, she’s going to stab her_ , _no –_

Before Skye can try to vibrate the object away from her mother – she has to do _something_ she can’t let this happen oh God _Jemma_ – Jiaying leans over and smashes it on the desk. A puff of mist shoots rapidly throughout the room.

Skye feels as though the world has stopped spinning.

 _No._  

Because she’s seen this before – in San Juan. In the temple. 

It’s some sort of Diviner.

Skye _screams_.

 

 

-

-

 

 

Skye’s standing before Jemma, watching in horror as the stone works its way up from her ankles, and she knows she can’t quake, she _knows_ , but she has to do something because this is all her fault, it’s her fault, and _Jemma_ –

‘I’m sorry,' she babbles, ‘I’m so so sorry, I’m sorry.’ 

Jemma wails breathily, trying desperately to bite it down but unable to quash the panic rising with the stone, and she’s gasping and grunting and Skye can’t do anything and not again, she can’t lose Jemma too, she can’t do this –

And then, Jemma Simmons is gone.

 

 

-

-

 

 

It’s silent.

 

 

-

-

 

 

Skye is hollow.

 

 

-

-

 

 

The room is completely still, noiseless apart from Skye’s stuttering sobs, gradually increasing in volume as the ugly despair claws its way up her throat. 

No. No, she can’t do this again, not after Trip, not Jemma too, not Jemma too, no no no no no no – 

‘Wait,’ Lincoln speaks up from behind her. ‘That’s not… That’s a chrysalis.’ 

‘Wh- a chrysalis?’ There’s no response, so Skye starts shaking her head in confusion. ‘What does that mean?’ 

No one says anything.

‘Hello? What’s does it mean?’

One of the other elders in the room speaks up, awe in his voice.

‘She’s… Inhuman.’

Before Skye can even begin to process the ramifications of this, Jiaying is whirling around to face her, eyes horrified. 

‘Who are her parents?’ she demands, voice pitched higher than Skye’s ever heard it.

Skye gapes. 

‘I don’t know! They’re…’ she thinks back desperately, trying to sort through the haze of confusion in her mind. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about them; their main claim to fame seemed to be parenting Jemma Simmons.

_Oh, God, Jemma._

She’s saved from answering by a loud clunking sound, and they all turn back to Jemma to see a piece of this chrysalis crap falling away from her shoulder. Everyone watches, breathless and hesitant, as the shell begins to break away.

(Piece by agonising piece, until it feels as though you’re shedding your very skin. Skye remembers.)

This is wrong. She doesn’t want this for Jemma. She wants her to be alive, oh God does she want Jemma to live, but she doesn’t want her to have to go through what she herself suffered. Jemma, who already takes on everyone else’s pain, bears it as her own –

Still, the shell falls away. She’s almost free, now.

And still, no one speaks.

(She’s _alive_. She’s – Jemma Simmons is still on this planet. She still exists.)

Looking down briefly at the rock still encasing her legs, Jemma glances across at Skye, eyes wide and confused and guilty. In an attempt to ease the process, Skye focuses hard on the rest of the chrysalis, vibrating it until it breaks into pieces and falls away. 

They watch.

And then –

Jemma releases an agonised scream, and everyone in the room falls to their knees, gasping for air.

Skye is flung into the opposite wall, _hard_ , and it’s like some invisible force is holding her there because she can’t move her limbs. It feels like her chest is constricting, her windpipe closing, and she can vaguely make out Jemma’s stricken face, her clenched fists, the alarm in her posture, but she can’t breathe she can’t _breathe_ –

Horrified understanding washes over her.

This is Jemma.

Jemma is doing this to them.

_She can’t breathe._

‘Jemma…’ she rasps out, her arms suddenly freeing themselves and flailing at her throat uselessly. ‘Stop…’ 

‘How?’ Jemma cries out in desperation, sobs ripping out of her in a macabre soundtrack to the surreal tableau of suffering before them. The air is filled with her anguish.

Skye winces. ‘Just… figure out whatever you’re – doing and… do the opposite!’

‘I – ’

An intense look of concentration passes across Jemma’s face, her shoulders tense, and –

The gasping stops. 

Everyone slumps to the ground. 

Skye lands on her feet, and oh fuck. _Fuck_. She runs first to her mother, pressing her fingers to her neck – her pulse is weak, but it’s there – and then to Lincoln.

They’re alive. It’s okay. They’re… it’s okay.

She looks up then and watches in horror as Jemma drops to her knees, the scientist’s entire body tensing up as she retches – once, twice, three times.

The floor underneath her mouth is sprayed with her own blood.

‘Are they… is she alive?’ Jemma croaks out, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. It comes away bloodied, and Skye’s breath catches her in throat.

‘Yeah,’ she confirms, her hands shaking. ‘They’re breathing.’ 

Jemma groans then, a low, guttural noise that Skye would never imagine her friend could produce, so she runs over to her, dropping to her knees and putting an arm across Jemma’s shoulders.

‘What’s – where does it hurt?’ Her eyes are squeezed shut and there’s blood dribbling from her mouth and she won’t stop groaning and oh shit, oh _shit –_ ‘Jemma, please. Talk to me. I’m here. Where does it hurt?’

But Jemma only shakes her head, tensing her lips to reveal her gritted teeth.

‘I can feel their pulses,’ she sobs. ‘Their… the blood in their veins. I can – ’ 

With what appears to be a monumental effort, she drags her eyes up to meet Skye’s gaze. Skye’s stomach drops at the haunted agony on her normally composed face, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime and blood on her cheeks. As she watches, Jemma’s chest stutters with hiccupping sobs.

‘I can feel their pain,’ she whispers.

Skye’s speechless. She remembers how confusing and terrifying those first few moments had been, and to be feeling everyone else’s pain on top of that?

She feels a sickening jolt of pain somewhere in her abdomen.

Jemma immediately makes a soft sound of agony in response.

Oh _shit_ –

‘You felt that?’ 

‘I can – all of it. Oh… oh God,’ Jemma whines, bending over and retching again. Skye runs her hand up and down her rigid spine, but it does nothing to lessen the tension written into every line of her friend’s body.

Jemma is causing them their pain. Jemma is also feeling their pain.

_Jemma can’t control it._

‘Okay.’ Skye breathes in deeply, then slowly back out, casting her eyes about the room. She can do this. She can help.

What would Jemma say if their situations were reversed? What would May –

_May._

‘We – May. We need to get May.’

Jemma moans, but since she doesn’t exactly object, Skye jumps into action, running across to the desk and snatching up the comms device. She has another quick glance around the room, evaluating.

She can’t stay here. _They_ can’t stay here. 

But they can’t go back to SHIELD.

Where do they go? 

‘We’ll get to May. Can you stand?’

Jemma doesn’t reply, but she feebly tries to push herself off the ground anyway. Skye’s at her side immediately, slinging Jemma’s arm across her shoulders and trying to bear some of her friend’s weight.

‘I’m here, okay? We’ll work this out.’

Breathing heavily for a few moments, Jemma eventually lifts her head to meet Skye’s eyes.

‘I got you,’ Skye murmurs.

Teeth clenched, knees shaking, Jemma nods.

 

 

-

-

 

 

‘Fitz, just stay away!’ Skye’s ordering into the comms desperately. They’re almost to the room where May’s being held, and at this point she’s half dragging Jemma along next to her – the girl’s increasingly tripping over her feet, shuffling along as she is. ‘They have a weapon that takes out every human present, it’s not worth it, I’ll look after her – ’

‘ – Skye,’ Jemma intones. 

‘ – Fitz, I _promise_ – ’ 

‘Skye, wait – I can’t…’

At the strangled sound to Jemma’s voice, Skye snaps her head across to gauge how she’s faring. Jemma’s mouth is speckled with blood; it trickles from her nose, colours her skin with ghoulish streaks.

‘I can’t hold it,’ she whispers, and Skye doesn’t understand, not really, until she sees members of the community running towards them from up ahead, yelling, and suddenly the insistent tugging on her lungs makes sense.

‘Jemma,’ she tries, but it’s too late.

Jemma squeezes her eyes closed.

Everybody slumps to the ground.

Oh, _fuck._  

Blinking away the sudden tears in her eyes, Skye forces Jemma forward, picking their way around the bodies.

 _I’ll take care of her_ , she repeats to herself.

 

 

-

-

 

 

When they reach the room where May is being held, there are two men standing guard by the door. Skye yells out. 

‘Move!’

They glance at each other, shuffling uncomfortably, and can they not hear her or something?

‘Get out of the way; move!’ 

Jemma makes a high-pitched whine and shit, _shit_ , she can’t control it, they’re going to –

Outstretching her hands, Skye focuses and pinpoints a pulse at each of them, knocking them backwards off their feet.

(It’ll hurt them, but not as Jemma will hurt them.)

Skye flings open the doors.

‘May!’

May jumps to her feet and reaches for them immediately, but Skye can see the exact moment she notices Jemma – or, more accurately, the pain etched into her face, the tension, the absolute mess of blood and the leftover shit from the chrysalis. Her SO’s face turns frantic.

‘What happened?’ she demands.

Skye opens her mouth to give a condensed version of events – _very_ condensed – when about five or six other guards spill into the room behind them.

Her stomach drops.

 _Oh no_.

‘Make them leave,’ Jemma whispers. Her face is contorted in pain. ‘I can’t…’

‘You can, Jemma,’ Skye tries, trying to meet her eyes. ‘Hey. You _can_.’

‘ _Please_.’

May only has time to glance at Skye in alarm before Jemma’s releasing a bloodcurdling scream, clutching at her own biceps as she tries to make herself smaller, tries to roll in on herself. The men drop abruptly to the ground behind her, as though lifeless, and still Jemma screams and screams.

(Skye has never seen her SO look so simultaneously stricken and horrified.) 

‘It hurts,’ Jemma groans once her cries have dulled, resting her head on Skye’s shoulder. She’s starting to sound completely exhausted now. God, the exertion must be eating her alive. ‘Skye. Skye, it hurts so much.’

‘I know,’ she replies, and she’s definitely crying herself, now. She strokes a hand down Jemma’s cheek.

(The blood looks to have completely run from May’s face.)

‘It hurts.’ 

‘I know it does, but you’ve just got to focus on us, okay?’

‘I’m… trying,’ she breathes, stuttering and agonised. Her voice is small, guilty, and Skye just wants to make this stop. Make it _end_. ‘I promise.’

‘And you’re doing so well,’ May steps in, and Skye doesn’t think she’s ever felt more relieved to hear May talk. The woman grits her teeth for a brief moment, before bringing a hand up to touch Jemma’s shoulder – it’s just the barest of brushes, but it’s there. It’s there. Jemma looks across at her with hooded eyes.

‘But we need you to go on just a little longer, okay? Then you can rest.’

Jemma manages to nod at that – ‘nod’ is probably too charitable a word, actually, as she barely moves her head, but it’s a response. She’s responding.

May’s looking between Jemma and the men sprawled across the floor now, as though she’s seen a ghost, before her eyes eventually settle on Skye, and suddenly all Skye wants to do is spend the next ten minutes apologising for bringing Bahrain up earlier.

‘She’s Inhuman,’ is all she can think to say. May purses her lips, nods. ‘We _have_ to get her out.’

May steps towards the door, her face determined. ‘I can do that.’

No.

Wait.

‘May, wait!’

She stops, turning back to face Skye, and her eyes are haunted and terrified but she’s still ready to act. To protect. She’s shaken, but she endures.

Skye thanks her in the only way she knows how.

‘Let me.’

May’s eyes soften for only the briefest of moments, but then she nods. With a sudden pang of gratitude, Skye grimaces by way of acknowledgement, and then, throwing Jemma’s arm across her shoulders, she helps her friend to the doorway – away from the people in pain. God, she hopes they’re in pain. She hopes they’re not dead. She hopes Jemma hasn’t killed them.

(The dullness in Jemma’s eyes extinguishes that hope pretty abruptly.)

They have to leave.

‘Gordon!’ Skye yells. The man appears before her in a blue flash, looking completely and utterly pissed. She cringes. 

‘We need your help.’

He raises his eyebrows. ‘No one’s leaving,’ he insists, voice firm and yeah, pissed off. May’s at her other shoulder, regarding the entire exchange warily.

‘Gordon.’

‘Do you have any idea what’s happened today? We’ve got half of the elders lying _unconscious_ in – ’ 

‘ – I know! It was her, okay?’

Jemma makes a soft noise of pain, her head lolling forward. With a gentleness that causes a lump in Skye’s throat, May reaches out and guides Jemma’s head to rest on Skye’s shoulder instead.

She continues on in desperation.

‘She’s one of us, but with everything that’s going on, this is the _worst_ place for her to be right now,’ she pushes. He pulls an uncomfortable face, and Skye knows that she’s almost got him. She’s making too much sense. ‘You know that.’

Gordon is silent for a moment. Then:

‘Where do you want to go?’ 

And Skye knows that this is a test. She knows he’s expecting her to say SHIELD.

She also knows that it’s no longer an option for them.

‘Anywhere, Gordon. God, anywhere but here. Please.’

Jemma coughs into her hand – more blood – and makes a tiny mewling sound. She unconsciously leans more of her weight onto Skye’s shoulder, and even through the layers, Skye can feel the tension in her friend’s jaw. How she’s barely keeping it together.

So Skye looks to Gordon again.

‘ _Please._ ’

Gordon makes a sort of grunting noise, glancing at them for a moment longer, and then raises his arm to teleport them. With a surge of gratitude, Skye glances across at May, who only nods, and then reaches down to pry Jemma’s fingers out of the tight fist she’s holding, grabbing onto her friend’s hand with her own.

Jemma grips back like it's a lifeline.

 

 

-

-

 

 

Gordon had the foresight to dump them somewhere unpopulated – probably picked up on Jemma’s control problem – so they encounter no resistance before they’re on the road, May driving a beat up old car with an urgency Skye’s never seen before. She’s sitting in the backseat, Jemma sprawled across the length of it with her head cradled in Skye’s lap.

‘Where do we go?’ she asks. May says nothing.

Pulling her sleeve over her hand, Skye tries to wipe away some of the blood drying around her friend’s mouth. Jemma whimpers, turning her head into Skye’s thigh, and Skye feels the panic bubble up in her chest, threatening to spill over.

‘ _May,_ ’ she repeats.

May pauses, then pulls out her phone, thumbing through the contacts and quickly making a selection. When the person on the other end picks up, her shoulders slump the tiniest bit in relief. 

‘Maria,’ she says. ‘We need help.’

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Teen Idle' by Marina and the Diamonds.
> 
> For anyone interested, since I left it pretty vague, Jemma's powers, in addition to absorbing the pain of those around her, involve manipulating life force (i.e. biochemistry). The pain thing was because Jemma's been carrying both her own pain and the pain of those around her for so so long now. Also, for the obvious Bahrain parallel.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! you can find me on tumblr at 'imperfectlychaotic' if you want to come yell at me.


End file.
